


you light me up

by darth_stitch



Series: Two Boys from Brooklyn [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Humor, Count Buckula verse, Fluff, Kisses, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 05:51:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1733429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darth_stitch/pseuds/darth_stitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the boys look back and where kisses and snark are exchanged, because reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you light me up

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at [The Blanket Fort](http://darthstitch.tumblr.com/post/87601988481/you-light-me-up-a-steve-bucky-ficlet-sometimes)

****

****

Sometimes, Steve wonders what would have happened if he’d been less oblivious to how Bucky really felt back in the past.   
  
He wonders what would’ve happened if he’d turned his face up after feeling that soft, stolen kiss in his hair while Bucky had him in his arms, thinking he was sleeping.  Steve wonders what if he had the courage to speak up and tease Bucky about his aim.  _My lips are right here, Bucko._   
  
_Who you callin’ Bucko, punk?_ would have been Bucky’s reaction.  Perhaps after he had kittens first.  Bucky tended to be adorable that way when flustered and usually when Steve was feeling mischievous.    
  
_You kissin’  me or not, jerk?_ would have been Steve’s answer.  He knows Bucky wouldn’t have wasted any more time.    
  
If he’d known, how little time the two of them had left together, he might have found his courage.  Damn everyone else and what they thought about two men loving each other back then. It was none of their damn business anyway.  
  
Now he knows he wasn’t imagining things, knows the soft, tender look on Bucky’s face for what it really is.   And these days, he gets to see that look every day, each morning when he feels one flesh and one metal arm wrap around his waist and soft lips press against the pulse of his throat.    
  
_My lips are up here, Bucko._   
  
_Who you callin’ Bucko, punk?_  
  
 _For a sniper, you sure got lousy aim, jerk._  
  
 _There.  That better?_  
  
 _Much.  Good morning, Sergeant Barnes._  
  
And he’ll return that kiss back with interest, until the coffee gets cold.    
  
Steve wouldn’t wish the hell that they both went through to get here on anyone.  But they can’t keep looking back.  They can only keep moving forward.  And this time, he’s not wasting his chances.    
  
***  
  
Sometimes Bucky wonders what would’ve happened if he’d taken a chance, came clean to Steve on how he really felt back in the past.    
  
He wonders what would’ve happened if he’d given in to the urge to actually kiss him, the way he’d always wanted.  Once in the mornings, before they both started the day.   Once in the evenings, when they were both home, safe and sound.    
  
 If he was honest, it wouldn’t just be the one kiss.  
  
 _Come back here and kiss me proper,_ Steve would say, because Bucky would tease, of course, dropping kisses on his forehead, his cheek, the curve of his jaw and that particular spot at his throat, where he could feel that pulse, the beat of that stubborn heart.      
  
_I am kissing you proper._  
  
 _My lips are right here, Bucko._  
  
 _Who you callin’ Bucko, you punk?_  
  
But he’d give in anyway and linger for as long as he dared, without triggering Steve’s asthma.    
  
If he’d known that the war would find them anyway, that he and Steve would end up fighting side by side and that they’d never really get back home again, he would’ve damned everyone else and said his piece.   They weren’t hurting anyone.   What was more obscene, blowing some poor sap’s brains out, when that so-called enemy was probably in the same boat as the rest of them, with a life and a family left behind?  Or loving another man?  It was insane and Bucky had enough of that to last more than his life over.    
  
Now, Bucky knows he’s not imagining things, knows that the soft, sweet expression Steve often sends his way for the loving one it truly is.  Seventy years of his brain gone through the wringer but it was the one thing nobody could take away.  _Steve_ had always been there in the tangled mess of his memories, buried under blood and pain and grief.  But he’d been there, stubborn to the end.    
  
These days, Bucky gets to see that look every night, just before they settle in for the night.  Sometimes, sleep doesn’t come easy for either of them.  But it’s easier being together, wrapped up in a comfortable tangle of limbs and blankets.    
  
_Get over here and give me a proper kiss goodnight,_ Steve says, laughter in his voice.   
  
_Mmm, I am kissing you proper._   
  
_Lips right here, Bucko._   
  
_Who you callin’ Bucko, punk?_  
  
 _Your aim still sucks, you —_   
  
Steve never gets to finish that sentence.  Proper goodnight kisses take a while to do and Bucky prides himself on getting it done right.    
  
There’s a hell of  a lot of things Bucky regrets and grieves over, no matter how many times everyone else tells him that he was used, that he’d merely been HYDRA’s meat puppet.  But yes, he won’t let anyone take this away from him.  He and Steve can only keep going forward.  And they’re not wasting anymore time.    
  
_\- end -_

**Author's Note:**

>  **Note:** Yeah, I’m on a Birdy kick and the title of this ficlet comes from the song “You Light Me Up.”  This is still pretty much the Count Buckula universe.  Nobody minds backstories, right?  :D


End file.
